Getting my life back

Tuesday and Wednesday this week were a wake-up call for me. Wednesday especially.

I mopped the floors 3x on Wednesday. Why, you ask? Because I was bored. I had nothing, and I mean NOTHING, to do at work. I have no responsibility, no reason for going there. Nobody wants to stress me out so they took away all my responsibility. What they don't get is that stresses me out even more. I need to have a goal, a job, a reason for being there.

Wednesday night I got mad for the first time since before the boys arrived. And it felt good. I spewed, spouted, ranted, and raved for an hour with Gigi just watching.

On Thursday I went to my unit and told them I need a job. That I want my life back. That I want ME back. That I need to feel useful. And I can't do that without their help and a reason for putting on my uniform every day.

They're discussing it now. Who knows how it will turn out, but at least I took the starter step.